


||Romance and Rafters||

by MegaDistortion



Category: Original Work
Genre: Carmen the Human, City Girl/Country Boy, Culture Shock, F/M, Human/Monster Romance, Minotaur Boyfriend, Monster Boyfriend, Monster Lover, Neither of us understand each other yet so we're just gonna ignore these blossoming feelings, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Silas the Minotaur, Soulmates, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaDistortion/pseuds/MegaDistortion
Summary: Carmen Laurito is forced to put her busy life in New York on hold when her estranged Aunt Alina dies, surprisingly having left her once close niece Carmen as executor of her complicated will and dauntingly old estate. With no other choice but to take up the challenge, Carmen moves to spend the next few months in Kepinne Hollow, renting a room from a nearby farmer named Silas.
Relationships: Silas/Carmen
Kudos: 8





	||Romance and Rafters||

Kepinne Hollow is a small, idyllic valley at least fifteen miles from just about anything worth mentioning, with enough people living there that it somehow manages to qualify as a village. It also happens to be the place my estranged Aunt Alina moved to after falling out with the rest of the family in New York City, and the place I’ll be having to stay for the next few months while I sort out her will and what’s left of her estate. 

I don’t know if she picked me as the executor of her will because I was studying to be a paralegal before switching majors in college, or because I was the niece she got on with best before her little self-imposed ‘banishment’, but I do know it’s my responsibility now. 

Yawning as I rest my forehead against the cool glass of the taxi’s back window, I look out at the rolling fields as they pass by. They’re picturebook peaceful, wet and dewy from the overnight rain that ended less than an hour ago and framed by the warm sun as it comes up over the horizon. It almost makes the redeye I booked to get here worth it, or it would be if I could keep my eyes open long enough to appreciate it. Any sleep I might have gotten on the hours-long flight had been hamstrung by a crying baby in the next row, leaving me worn out and struggling not to keel over now I finally had a little peace and quiet.

Any chance at a quick nap vanishes when the car pulls to a stop in front of the farm I’ll be staying at, several miles out from the town center but still closer and cheaper than any of the hotels and motels in the area. 

I pay my astronomical fare and step out of the taxi, having to squeeze past a large puddle to get at the trunk and pull out all my luggage. The cabbie doesn’t bother to help, barely polite enough to wait until I’ve got the last of it out before speeding off, his back wheels splattering mud all over my designer jeans as he goes. 

I swear loudly, regretting the large tip I gave him as I start dragging my bags down the dirt path to the main farmhouse, avoiding more puddles as I go. 

While it doesn’t look like that big a farm, it does take me at least ten minutes to lug my three large bags plus purse all the way down to the main house, where I climb the porch and use the heavy brass knocker to bang on the front door, crossing my arms and leaning on the railing while I wait. 

When another ten-minute stretch goes by without anyone coming out to greet me despite how many times I knock again, I finally pull out my phone, grumbling as I scroll through the contacts for the number of the guy I’m going to be semi-renting from. 

The phone rings for a little while before getting picked up, a somewhat gruff, husky voice answering with a calm “Silas here.”

“So am I, but no one’s answering your door,” I reply, not fully bothering to keep the irritation out of my voice. “I was supposed to be moving onto your farm today? You know, the person taking your spare room starting April 16th?”

“…You must be Carmen.” He says after a small pause, still sounding entirely unhurried. “I’m in the big barn out back if you wanna join me. It’s closer to where you’re gonna be staying anyhow.”

Hanging up with a huff, I groan silently to myself and drag my luggage back down the stairs, wheeling it around the house and setting course for the big red barn several yards away that looks like it popped up right out of a children’s book.

When I get there I’m greeted by the gentle mooing of a few cows and a weird, musky scent that I mentally categorize as 'farm smell’. Stomping my way through the big open doors, I look around for this 'Silas’ guy, stopping when I spot a figure leaning down to pick up a bale of hay.

His back is turned to me, and even though he’s bent over I can tell he must be massive, his worn jeans straining over his bulky legs and firm, toned ass while the rolled-up sleeves on his flannel shirt show off the thick muscle of his arms as he easily lifts the heavy stack of hay onto his shoulder.

He straightens and turns towards me, letting me see even more muscle as my eyes trace down his half-opened shirt, admiring his fur-covered pecks and the sliver of belly that trails down to the edge of his pants…

The sound of him clearing his throat makes my eyes snap up to his face, his dark brown eyes carefully impassive beneath a raised eyebrow. 

I don’t have the shame to blush at being caught checking him out, instead noting the parts of him I hadn’t gotten to yet. Like every other Minotaur I’ve met, his facial features are mostly humanoid but covered in the same coarse, russet-colored fur as his hands and torso, plus a wide brown bull’s nose and large ears with long, heavy horns sticking out from either side of his head. 

He seems to look me over as well, a polite sweep that only lingers on my dirty jeans and the obvious bags under my eyes, though he doesn’t mention either. Instead, his focus goes to the luggage I have trailing along behind me, that cocked brow of his climbing even higher as he stares at it.

“Welcome to Balogh Farm.” He says, nodding in place of a handshake as he steps forward to greet me. “Give me five minutes to sort this and I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying.”

I wait a few seconds to give him a chance to apologize for not being there to greet me at the house, but he makes no move to do so. I frown at him in response, hitching my purse further up on my shoulder. 

“Fine. I’ll be waiting outside.” I tell him a little tersely, turning on my heel and heading back out with my things.

Better than his word, he takes even less than five minutes to finish his work and join me outside. Dusting his hands off on the back of his pants, he surprises me by grabbing my heaviest sets of rolling luggage and straight-up lifting them off the ground, jerking his head in the direction we need to go. 

“This way.” He says, not bothering to check and make sure I’m following before starting off. He manages to move at a slow enough pace that I can keep up with him despite his large frame, my own 5'8 no doubt helping even with my tiredness. 

He takes me to a much smaller, older looking barn stationed beside some chicken coops, this one marked by fading paint and a weatherbeaten roof that’s clearly been through some repairs recently. 

I hesitate to follow as he pulls open the dutch door that leads inside, taking a moment to brace myself for what might be a run-down interior full of moth-eaten furniture and a thin layer of dust that covers just about everything.

What I do find when I step through is quite a pleasant surprise, the bright, whitewashed room practically pristine with a quaint little kitchenette and comfortable looking, almost shabby-chic furniture complemented by little homemade decorations dotted around the room. There’s even a cute, old fashioned metal fireplace and a spiral staircase leading up to what must have once been the hayloft, now a pseudo-second floor with a large bed and a carefully worn antique rug. 

“Well, this is definitely going to work better than I expected,” I mutter to myself as I plop my purse down on the kitchen table and lean against one of the counters. 

“Good,” Silas replies, apparently having caught what I said. He sets my luggage down carefully by the staircase, turning to look at me with a slight curve to his lips that could be taken as a smirk if you squinted hard enough. “You’ll have to do without air conditioning, and come to the main house if you wanna do laundry, but other than that you should have everything you need.”

“Including internet?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I look up at him, eyes narrowed as I try to work out if he really is smiling. “You mentioned wifi in the listing, but I need a strong, secure connection for work.”

“The main house has it. Too expensive to put in a second router out here.” He crosses his arms, his thick brows furrowing as he frowns. “It’s spotty. If you really need something better there’s an ethernet connection in my old man’s office. You can use it as long as you don’t hog it.”

“That’s fine. It’s more secure to only be connected when I’m submitting things or working directly on the server anyway.” I shrug, glancing around once more. A thought occurs to me and I pause, carefully searching the room this time. “Hey, you said this place had everything I’d need but… where’s the bathroom?”

“Ah.” He says, motioning for me to join him as he moves towards the door. I follow with extreme trepidation, the dread slowly building in my stomach as he takes me around back to show me two shedlike constructions several feet from the barn. “There’s the outhouse right there, and an outdoor shower for when you need it.”

I can’t help but wrinkle my nose, remembering the one camping trip my family ever took, out in upstate New York. Even through the slight fuzziness of my childhood memories, I perfectly recall the awful stink of the port-a-potties and the terror of the wasp’s nest hanging in the corner of the outdoor shower. I’m pretty sure it’s the only time in my entire life I managed to go a full three days without having to pee, poop, or wash myself. 

“Well, if that’s all…” Silas says, watching me from the corner of his eye. I notice the tiniest hint of a frown on him when I look, and I could swear I see a flicker of judgment in his stoic expression. 

“I’ll let you know if I need anything,” I nod, doing my best to un-scrunch my face as I turn to him and cross my arms. “Go ahead and get back to whatever it is you need to do.”

“Here’s the key to the barn, then.” He says, reaching into one of his pockets and fishing out a shiny brass key. “Had a lock installed for privacy when we converted it." 

"Thanks.” I sigh, reaching out to take it from him. The tips of my fingers brush against his as I do, and I feel a spark jump up my arm, causing me to pull my hand back as soon as the key is in my palm.

Silas clearly feels it too, grunting quietly and curling his hand into a fist. Our eyes lock for a brief second before he tears his away, taking a half step back.

“Didn’t think it was dry enough for static today,” I mutter, stuffing the key into my back pocket. The air is still conspicuously humid, enough that I’m pretty sure my chestnut curls are starting to turn frizzy the longer I’m out here.

“Yeah, well…” He grunts again, not bothering to finish the thought as he turns around and heads back the way we came. I follow after him as we walk around to the front of the barn, an odd silence hanging between the two of us that I’m way too tired to try and address.

“Enjoy your stay.” He says, his voice a bit gruffer than before as he leaves me at the door, barely bothering to look at me as he nods goodbye and heads off towards the main house.

I watch him go for a minute before heading inside and climbing the staircase to shuck off my dirty clothes and flop onto the big comfy bed, promising myself I’ll unpack when I wake up. It doesn’t take me more than a minute to fall into a dark, empty sleep, far too exhausted to actually dream. 

It’s several hours later when I wake up, a quick glance at my phone showing me I’ve probably ruined any chance of falling asleep at a reasonable hour tonight. 

I groan and pull myself out of bed, climbing down the spiral staircase to open up my luggage and put on some fresh clothes before taking the rest up in batches. In the end, the dresser provided doesn’t have enough room for everything I brought, and I have to leave one of my suitcases still half-full of clothes and various accessories. 

As done as I can be for the moment, I gather up the clothes I threw on the floor earlier, hoping my jeans aren’t ruined by the now dried mud as I head over to the main house the find the laundry room. 

This time Silas actually answers the door when I knock, letting me in and showing me to the back room near the stairs where the washer and drier have been set up. 

“What am I supposed to do if I need to get in when you aren’t at the house?” I ask as I open up the machine, trying to read the tiny instructions printed on the tags of my clothes. 

“Door’s left unlocked during the day.” He says, coming over and taking hold of my jeans as I start to stuff them into the machine. I turn to stare at him incredulously, not letting go or moving away despite how he’s suddenly looming over me. 

He has the good sense to step back, this time holding out his hand for them as he awkwardly clears his throat. 

I consider it for a few moments, finally handing them over and leaning back against the wall, letting him take over. 

“You need to soak it first.” He explains, grabbing a bucket and putting it in the large sink the washer empties into, filling the whole thing up with water. He then takes a stiff brush and scrapes off as much as the mud as he can before carefully lowering in only the parts that had been stained, draping the rest over the side of the bucket and letting it hang. 

“I take it you have experience dealing with these kinds of stains?” I ask casually, taking mental notes for the next time I have this problem.

“Occupational hazard.” He grunts, rinsing clumps of dirt off his brush and letting them slowly dissolve down the drain. 

“Well, thanks for the tip,” I tell him, tossing the rest of my small load into the washer and setting it to run for an hour or so. “Speaking of tips, any chance you know where I can go to catch the bus into town? I wanna grab some take out and pick up groceries for the rest of the week.”

“There isn’t one.” He says, straightening up and flicking drops of water from his hands.

“What?!” I exclaim, my jaw dropping open as I stare at him. “But how am I supposed to get anywhere if there isn’t a bus that goes down there?”

“I assumed you would have rented a car or something.” He says, turning to look at me with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“How was I supposed to know the busses don’t come out this far?” I ask defensively, mirroring his stance. “It’s not like your farm's that far out from the village.”

“…Kepinne Hollow doesn’t have a bus system.” He tells me, one of his eyebrows slowly climbing up as he looks down at me.

“What? I saw plenty of busses on my ride over from the airport!” I protest, remembering the occasional black and grey monsters the taxi passed on our ride out into the countryside.

“Those were when you were closer to the city.” He explains, and from the slight tone in his voice, I’m not sure if he’s holding back from rolling his eyes. “The only bus Kepinne ever gets is the one that comes twice a day to pick up and drop off the people who have jobs in the next town over.”

I groan, bringing my hands up to rub my face. “Great. Now how am I supposed to get the supplies I need?" 

"Ride with me when I go tomorrow.” He says, shrugging as he turns to leave the room. “Need to hit the hardware store for some stuff anyway.”

“Seriously?” I perk up, managing to catch another shrug as he walks through the door. I shout after him, only half convinced he’ll hear me. “Thanks! I guess…" 

”…That’ll be a big help actually.“ I let the last bit trail off, turning back to the machines as my stomach starts to growl. I sigh, contemplating if the half-eaten bag of Gardetto’s in my purse is going to be enough to get me to tomorrow. 

—————————————————————————-

The next day I’m woken up early by the sharp hunger pangs shooting through my stomach, which urges me to drag myself out of bed and root around for any scraps of food. 

I find an extremely squashed candy bar in one of the pockets of my jacket, plus some instant rice that a previous tenant left in the kitchen cupboard, and make my breakfast out of that before popping my daily dose of titty skittles and heading over to the main house to see what time Silas wants to go shopping.

It feels a little weird just barging in, but I make my way inside and search around, eventually finding him in the kitchen eating breakfast with a man I don’t recognize. This one is clearly a Cyclops, even bigger than Silas with sandy blond hair and a piercing, baby blue eye in the center of his face.

"Morning.” I greet them, stopping in front of the kitchen island they’re eating at and staring down at the heaps of food piled in front of them. Hot buttered toast, juicy sausages, crispy bacon, perfectly runny eggs, and hash browns smothered with cheese practically spill off their plates, the heavenly smell of it all making my stomach growl like a hungry predator. 

Face as impassive as usual, Silas motions for me to grab a seat and grabs a piece of toast to plop some eggs on top of, sliding it over to me on a small plate. 

“Gregg.” He says, inclining his head towards the Cyclops, who nods and gives me a friendly smile. “Gregg, Carmen.”

“Hi,” I say before stuffing my mouth full of as big a bite of toast as is polite, a moan of satisfaction passing my lips as the yolk bursts on my tongue. 

“Silas said you were going to be staying in the old barn for a while? Guess that makes us neighbors.” Gregg’s whole face is open and cheerful, the corners of his eye crinkling as he grins.

“Mmph,” I nod, swallowing and reaching for the ketchup to throw a little on my eggs. “Until I get my Aunt’s estate sorted out, yeah.”

“Oh, did she pass away recently?” He asks, frowning sympathetically. The concern in his eye is genuine and sweet as if he really does feel for me and my assumed grief. “I’m real sorry for your loss.”

“We weren’t really close anymore, but thanks,” I tell him, throwing him a smile so he knows not to worry about it. I sneak a few sausages onto my plate, cutting into one before I move onto the next subject. “You going to be joining us at the stores today?”

“Oh, no, I got too much choring to do,” Gregg says, shaking his head. “I’m actually surprised Silas is stopping into town with so much else on his plate.”

“Oh?” I give the Minotaur in question a glance, finding his expression carefully blank as he keeps his focus narrowed in on his plate.

“Yeah, there’s a bunch of rows of new crops to finish planting, and one of the Terragator’s broke down a few days ago, plus Darla is set to give birth to a new calf pretty soon,” He ticks each one off on his fingers as he goes, running out of digits pretty quickly. "And there’s all the regular chores like feeding and watering.“

"I thought you’d have more free time if you were willing to take me into town,” I say, still watching the man’s face for any sign he might be regretting his decision. “You sure you’re not taking on too much at once?”

“Shops aren’t open for another two hours at least,” Silas mutters, stuffing a round of bacon and hash browns into his mouth. “Plenty of time to get stuff done before we head out." 

"Well, you won’t get any arguments from me then.” I hum, finishing off the last of my plate and standing with a long stretch. “I’ll just clean this up and take care of a few things before it’s time to go. Thanks for the food.”

He just nods silently, letting Gregg take care of the goodbyes as I clear my space and head out. Two hours, a brisk shower, and some make-up later, I’m dressed for the day and ready to head into town.

Double-checking my purse for everything as I climb up onto the front porch, I make to grab the doorknob when it suddenly swings open. 

“Was just coming to get you,” Silas says, grabbing some keys on a hook by the door along with an old brown leather jacket and stepping out to join me.

“Yeah, well, I figured I’d meet you here.” I shrug, tossing my short curls out of my face and starting back down the steps. “So we’re taking your car? Or truck, or whatever it is you drive." 

"Cousin had to take the truck overnight.” He says, striding ahead of me to what must be the garage and opening up the side door to let me in. “We’ll be taking the tractor.”

“I’m sorry, the what now?” I ask, ducking past him and staring at the vehicles parked inside. There’s room enough for three cars at least, though all I see is one of those drivable lawnmowers and an open seat tractor. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” I ask after staring at it a while, turning around to find Silas dragging a small flatbed attachment from out of the corner to hitch up to the back of the tractor. 

“There’s room in the seat for two, and we can carry your groceries back on this thing just fine as long as you strap them down properly.” He says, making sure everything is secure before standing and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Ok, but like, is it even legal to take this thing out on the road?” I ask, motioning to the giant tires and wide axels that look like they’d definitely take up more than one lane.

“I got my category F license the same time I got my regular drivers, and as long as I keep it over fifteen miles an hour and under seventy I won’t be breaking any laws." 

"Can this thing even go seventy miles an hour?” I eye it skeptically, noting the heavy build and thick metal sheets it’s made of. 

“It tops out at twenty-five.” He huffs, leaning down and offering up a large, worn hand. “Now are you coming with or not?”

I hesitate for only a second longer before putting my hand in his, letting him help me up onto the tractor. 

I’m surprised by how easily he lifts me, how the fur on the hand swallowing mine doesn’t feel at all prickly despite how short and coarse it is. Most of all, I’m surprised at the tingling sensation that’s left behind when he lets go, at how I feel that same sensation through my clothes as his warm side brushes against mine when we squeeze down into the seat together. 

If he feels any of it he says nothing, though I do feel his body tense as he scoots over to try and give me more room. Opening up the garage door and starting the engine, he pulls us out of the driveway and down the long dirt track that leads to the main road, moving just as slowly as he said the tractor could. 

Sighing as I realize how long the ride is going to be, I settle in my seat and cross my arms, hoping against hope I won’t be bored out of my mind by the time we get into town. 


End file.
